Silver Nightmares
by Marthmellow
Summary: Takes place one month after the events in FF7. Everyone goes their separate ways, but Vincent doesn't know where to go. Then, he starts to have dreams about Sephiroth seducing him. Sephiroth is doing this on purpose, but why? SephirothXVincent. Yaoi.
1. Dreams

**Note:** This is my first yaoi story - Vincent/Sephiroth. It's ratedM for later chapters, so if you hate yaoi or can't handle anything rated M, then leave. If you flame me saying something like "omg y cant u rite sumthin othr thn yoai" or "i h8 ur stry", then I'll just 1. Tell you to learn how to spell, 2. Remind you that I warned you in the note, and 3. Tell you that that's too bad. This is a yaoi that's rated R (both are firsts), and I'm not gonna change it. Constructive criticism, please.

**Chapter 1: Dreams**

Vincent stood at the edge of a river near Nibelheim. It was a month after the Sephiroth incident. A town called Edge was erected on the outskirts of Midgar, as Midgar was now no longer a place to live in. The team of eight (or nine, if you include the soul of Aerith) had gone their separate ways. Cloud went to live with Tifa and the orphans, Barret went back to North Corel to look for another energy source, Cait Sith (or Reeve) was starting a new organization (Vincent didn't know what kind), Yuffie went back to Wutai with the materia, Cid went back to his hometown to repair (or enhance) the Highwind, and Red XIII went back to the Cosmo Canyon. "Hmmm...but where do I go?" Vincent mused. For a month, he wandered. For a month, he thought. For a month, he walked a path that seemed to be leading to nowhere. What was he looking for? Was it a home to go to? Was it Lucrecia? Was it a purpose in life? Was it himself? As he pondered these thoughts, he felt someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're worrying. You shouldn't worry about these things." A familiar voice said.

Vincent turned around. Cloud was there. "It's none of your concern." Vincent replied. "This is my problem. Not yours." "Your problem is ours. It's just like the Shin-Ra and Sephiroth incident." Cloud stated.

"No, it's a lot more different than that. I've had this problem for a long time."

"So you're saying I can't help you out?" Cloud said. Vincent stayed silent. "You need to open up more." Cloud added. He took his hand off Vincent's shoulder. "Funny, coming from you." Vincent replied. "What brings you here, anyway?" "A dream brought me here." Cloud replied.

"Tell me about this dream."

"In my dream, I was standing here. Sephiroth was standing where you're standing right now. The river was dark, but at the same time clear, and overflowing. He walked into the river and embraced it with open arms. He disappeared beneath the waters and smiled a creepy smile. It ended right there."

Cloud looked at Vincent. "Hey, by any chance, did you..." he started, but Vincent stopped him. "No. I've been here for a few hours. I haven't seen him anywhere, and the river hasn't changed color, either." replied Vincent. "Oh." Said Cloud. "Well...I'll be coming back and forth from time to time. Bye." "Bye." Vincentreplied as Cloud walked away. When Cloud was out of sight, Vincent began pondering about his dream. After five minutes of thinking about it, he shrugged it off and continued staring at the river. Some time passed and he began to grow very tired. He struggled to stay awake. The river was unusually dark. Vincent noticed it, and everything seemed to stop. Time stopped. The river stopped. It seemed that someone cast "Stop" on the entire world. But he was still moving. Why was he moving? What had he done? Two hands found their way to his face. They touched his cheeks. Even though Vincent could turn around, he couldn't. He stood frozen to the spot. It was as if the person who touched him had complete control over him.

"What do we have here...?"

Vincent felt somebody (or something) breathing on him. The person's breath was warm. Vincent closed his eyes. That voice was familiar somehow. Where did he hear it? He then realized something. "Wait, is that-"

"Hello, Vincent."

He turned around and saw the familiar silver-white hair and golden eyes.

"Sephiroth."

"My, your memory's sharp."

"It hasn't been that long." Vincent replied, taking out his gun. "What are you doing here?" He pointed his gun at Sephiroth. Sephiroth looked at the gun, then back at Vincent. He stared deep into his eyes. "I can see it." He said. "You don't want to shoot me." A drop of sweat went down his forehead. He fired his gun. It missed Sephiroth by a mile. "Hmph." Sephiroth hummed. Vincent lowered his gun. The two locked gazes until Vincent looked away. "What do you want?" Vincent asked, still looking away. "What, I can't say 'Hi' to you?" Sephiroth asked. "Why me?" asked Vincent. "Why not Cloud? Or the others?" Sephiroth let out an evil chuckle and cupped one of his hands on Vincent's chin. Vincent found it hard to move. Sephiroth pulled Vincent close to him. "Because…" Sephiroth said. "Because…" He gave a smirk and put his lips close to Vincent's. His heart pounded. His breathing became heavier. He wanted to move, but something told him not to. The smirk was what he saw left of Sephiroth before he opened his eyes and realized that he was sleeping while standing up. Vincent, sweating, looked around in alarm. Sephiroth was gone. He relaxed, looked up to the sky, and muttered a question in two words.

"A dream?"

---

Vincent went back to the Nibelheim Mansion. It was an ancient, abandoned place – perfect for his temporary home. He descended the stairs to the basement and opened up the door to his "room" with a key he had been carrying around with him. He kicked a stray skull to the side and closed and locked the door behind him. He made his way to the purple coffin and opened it up. He crawled into his bed and moved the cover over it.

_This is my nightmare. My punishment. I share this with no one._

---

"Mother."

Sephiroth traced his finger along the glass of a tank. It housed Jenova, a calamity that fell from the sky long ago.

"Sephiroth…" whispered a voice.

"Mother?"

"You know what you must do."

"…I understand, but will you allow me to do this?"

"Yes. If you want to go back, then do all that it takes, my son. I will not stop you."

"Very well, then..."

Sephiroth turned to a glass sphere. He looked inside and saw Vincent sleeping peacefully. "He's grown used to them." said Sephiroth. Vincent's expression in his sleep changed a couple of seconds later. He tossed and turned in the small space, but refused to wake up from the nightmare.

"Then again…maybe not."


	2. One Hot Day

**Note:** Yeah, yeah, I know I'm taking too long to update…school's tough. They FORCE you to do your homework. Also, the events in this fanfic only apply to the events in Final Fantasy 7. It doesn't follow the events of Dirge of Cerberus or Advent Children or any of the other add-ons. Just pure FF7.

**Chapter 2: One Hot Day**

"I've defeated Hojo, so why are my nightmares still coming?" Vincent thought as he picked up a small stone. He lobbed it at the river. It landed with a splash and fell to the bottom. "Wait, why am I thinking about this now? Why didn't I notice it earlier?" Vincent's thoughts fell silent. It's been three days after his little "encounter" with Sephiroth. "Why am I noticing this just now?" he repeated aloud. Nobody was around, so nobody heard him.

"Hmph. So I really am alone."

Vincent picked up another stone and balanced it on the end of his finger. "What were my nightmares, anyway? After _he_ appeared, I can't seem to remember any of the ones I had recently." For the rest of the afternoon, he stood there thinking about the nightmares while balancing the stone, ignoring the heat. When his thinking brought him nowhere, he flicked the stone into the river and sat down on the cool grass. He lay down and glanced up at the sky. The clouds moved lazily in the afternoon heat. Vincent slowly closed his eyes, and felt two hands on his face. He sat up, startled. The same person that he met and failed to shoot was there. Sephiroth wrapped his arms around Vincent's waist. "It's just a dream." Mumbled Vincent.

"It's just a dream, it's just a dream…"

"If this is a dream," began Sephiroth, "then can you feel this?" He nibbled softly on Vincent's ear, and heard him gasp. "Heh…" Sephiroth chuckled. He kissed his victim's neck as his hands traced his body. One of his hands stopped at a certain area. Softly, he stroked the lump that was shielded by the worn fabric, and felt it grow hard under his fingers. Waves of pleasure flooded Vincent's body. He moaned and, shaking, reached for his gun. He pointed it at Sephiroth's head. "I…h-have a cl-clear sh-shot of y-you." Vincent managed to say aloud. Sephiroth's hands withdrew and rested at his sides. He brought his face closer to Vincent's. "Stop...!" warned Vincent. Sephiroth stopped an inch away from his face. Vincent could feel his warm breath on his lips. "Are you sure you want me to stop?" he asked. Vincent brought his gun up to his face and pulled the trigger. No bullets. He reached into his coat to get some.

"Looking for these?"

Sephiroth opened his hand, revealing several of Vincent's bullets. Vincent glanced at the bullets, and lunged forward to snatch them out of his hands. "You really do hate me, don't you?" asked Sephiroth. He dropped the bullets on the ground before Vincent could reach them and got up. Vincent picked up the bullets, reloaded his gun, and put the extras in his coat. He pointed it at Sephiroth. Sephiroth turned around to look at him. "If you hated me so much, why didn't you shoot me earlier?" he asked. He locked eyes with Vincent. Vincent's body froze up again.

_Why…?_

_Every time I look at him…my body stops moving. Why!_

Sephiroth had an alluring aura about him that Vincent didn't notice before. The way he moved, the way he talked, the way he-

"Someone's coming."

Vincent woke up. "What the…?" he thought, looking around wildly. He breathed heavily and wiped off the sweat from his brow.

"You shouldn't be out here in this weather in those clothes."

Vincent looked up and saw Cloud. "Really?" he replied, too tired and hot to stand up. Cloud sighed. "Come on, before you get a heat stroke." said Cloud. He helped Vincent up and walked him to the mansion. "…Thank you." Said Vincent when they arrived in his room. "Anytime." Replied Cloud. "So, what are you doing here?" asked Vincent. "I told you I'd be coming back from time to time. You don't look so good, by the way. Did something happen?" asked Cloud.

"I fell asleep in the hot weather."

"Besides that."

"My nightmares have been getting worse, and I can't seem to remember what they were all about when I wake up."

"I see…"

Cloud sat down on one of the coffins. "Maybe you should see someone." He suggested. "I don't think they'll understand how it feels." Replied Vincent. "I said _someone_, not _anyone_." Said Cloud. He got up and opened the door. "I'm coming back in three days. If you're interested, tell me and I'll take you to him." With that, he left the room, leaving Vincent to ponder alone in thought.

---

Sephiroth placed his hand on the glass container. "…Mother." He said. "…Are you sure this will work?" There were a few seconds of silence, and a "Yes" was heard. "I won't question you further." He replied. He turned and peered into a glass sphere. It was the same glass sphere he was using a few days ago to spy on his victim. "Show me." He said to it. The sphere glowed and produced an image of Vincent sitting alone in the coffin room. "I wonder how long it'll take…" Sephiroth wondered.

"With his attitude right now…I don't know."

---

In the dark depths of the Lifestream, a shadow was cast over the predator and the prey. It watched the two with peaked interest, and cackled evilly when the predator turned to his "Mother" for help, and when the predator was onto its prey. Its cackling was silent, however. When you were in the darkest parts of the Lifestream, all was silent and actions meant everything.


	3. A Painful Memory

**Note:** …Dang, has it really been that long since I updated this? Gah…well…to explain my…Cough.…long absence…I moved two years ago, and I was hit with depression. I got even more depressed when I found out that my outline of this story was corrupted (the word document, I mean). I couldn't open it at all, and it was wiped off of my computer when my dad went to get it fixed. It took a really long time to write, and I didn't feel like writing anything at that time. I also got into roleplaying, so I wasn't writing fanfiction as much as before (I know I updated it once in 2007, but...that was it). But now, though, I think I'm back, after reading some fanfiction that several friends of mine wrote. It made me think of my ideas for fanfics…and this particular one. If school and replies for roleplays don't kill me (it's my senior year), I'll try and update this regularly somehow. I need to remember exactly what I was planning for this story, though. I have the idea; I just need the details for this.

**Chapter 3: A Painful Memor_y_**

_Cursed with wings and tears to swallow…_

Vincent was hand-cuffed and dangling from the ceiling. His body was in pain, but he didn't know why. The wings of Chaos were on his back, and they were badly beaten.

_You wander 'round the world, so hollow…_

The figure that had been standing in the corner of the room had a twisted smile, like the smile of a cat after trapping a mouse, or a smile of a murderer when he or she corners its victim. When the figure moved out into the light, the shadows followed it. This was the figure that had appeared everyday in Vincent's dreams often after defeating Hojo, and everyday after the Meteor incident. Vincent couldn't see his face at all. With a wave of its hand, Vincent was unchained and lying on the floor. He made some effort to get up, but the amount of pain on his body caused him to stay on the ground. The figure waved its hand again, and Vincent felt time rewinding. The floor below was rushing by, and when it stopped, Vincent realized that he was outside of the gate to Nibelheim. Something told him not to go into Nibelheim, so he stayed rooted to the small area outside of the gate. He peered between the gates, wondering what was happening and why his heart sank deeper and deeper into sorrow, even if nothing had happened yet. He closely observed his surroundings and became more and more suspicious. In the distance, he saw the Nibelheim Mansion. It looked strange, however. It was no longer run-down. Its garden wasn't infested with weeds. The metal used to make the gates weren't rusting. The windows weren't broken and it looked like a normal mansion. _Too normal._

Then it hit him.

_Tonight I lay myself to bed…_

A short-haired Vincent walked out of the mansion where the scientists were doing research. Following him was Lucrecia Crescent, a scientist assigned to help with the research. Upon seeing Lucrecia, long-haired Vincent's closed-up heart started to falter, letting the contents slowly spill out onto the floor. He couldn't bear to watch this scene. No…he felt like breaking down. Right there, right now.

"Hey, Vincent! So, why did you call me out here all of a sudden?" asked Lucrecia, smiling.

Her smile was angelic and purer than any goddess's.

"L-Lucrecia…"

"Yeah?"

"W-Well…you kn-know…w-we've kn-known each o-other for s-so l-long…"

His hands fumbled with something behind his back as he quivered from the nervousness he felt. He got down on one knee; in the stance he watched others do when they did what he was planning to do. "Just do it. You already called her out here," he thought to himself as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I…I love you…w-will y-you…"

He brought up his hand from behind his back, drawing out a small, black box. With a quivering hand, he opened it, and inside was a large, intricate, and ornate diamond ring. It had cost him almost everything he had to get it, despite the fact that his job was too well-paid. He wanted the best for her, and he wouldn't hesitate at all to give it.

The young Vincent's eyes darted down to the ground for the first few seconds after his proposal. Cautiously, he looked up to see Lucrecia's reaction. He expected an expression of acceptance from her, but instead got the opposite. He would never forget how she looked when he showed her the ring. It was as if he were offering her a giant, dirty rat. She looked at the ring in fear and cried not from happiness, but from sadness. That innocent, beautiful look that Vincent loved so much was distorted in terror and grief. His mind reeled with many questions.

"I-I can't. I'm s-sorry, b-but…"

Lucrecia shook her head several times, taking a few steps back. Turk Vincent stood up and took a few steps forward, putting his free hand on her shoulder.

"L-Lucrecia," he started, "I…I understand. Y-You weren't r-ready, and I sh-shouldn't have t-told you-"

Lucrecia shook her head again, and pushed him away.

"I'm sorry, Vincent! I can't! I don't deserve this. No…not this. I-I'm sorry!"

With that, she ran back to the mansion, leaving the young Turk to stare after her, broken-hearted and in shock. Did she hate him that much? Had he proposed too early? Without noticing, the ring dropped from his hand and fell to the ground.

_And sleep as though my soul were dead…_

"Lucrecia, will you marry me?"

"Professor Hojo…"

"With you by my side, nothing will stop us from breaking down the walls of the unknown with science! I, also, have never felt this way about someone besides you, my dear…"

Turk Vincent watched the two from behind the wall; from just outside of the gate. He couldn't believe that he was hearing and seeing; and it was in the spot where he had tried to propose to her, too!

"P-Professor H-Hojo…Hojo…yes…I do."

With that, the space between Lucrecia and Hojo closed as their lips met in a kiss. Turk Vincent turned away and slumped against the wall. He buried his face in his hands, and cried silently; he didn't want to be heard. The words he would live by for the next several years echoed in his mind…

"…As long as you are happy…I don't mind…"

As the present-day Vincent was watching all this, he wanted to scream. He wanted to tell Lucrecia that Hojo was going to trick her; that she should come to him instead, but he couldn't speak. He couldn't speak a single word at all.

_For even if I felt that my life had quivered…_

His surroundings turned dark, but he was still at the gates. The scene looked like he was outside of the present-day Nibelheim. He wanted to break down there and now, but he still couldn't move; couldn't even utter a sound. It stayed like this for a few minutes, then he felt another presence. A force propelled him to look in the direction of the presence, and he saw the figure that had been there earlier. It made a "tsk" sound and walked towards him, stopping only a few feet away from him, near a small tuft of grass on the ground. Bending down, the figure picked up the discarded ring of long ago that was hidden amongst the weeds. "If only she'd accept this," said the figure. Its voice was distorted, and Vincent couldn't recognize who it was. It was familiar, but at the same time, it wasn't. The figure paced back and forth slowly, and Vincent's eyes followed it. "If only she'd accept this," the figure stopped and looked down at the ring, "then this whole mess wouldn't have happened." Vincent couldn't help but think that the figure was right. If only Lucrecia accepted it, then this whole Meteor, Sephiroth, and Jenova incident wouldn't have happened. The shadows seemed to stick to the figure's face as it brought itself slowly to Vincent's eye level. "…What did you do wrong, Vincent?" it asked, in a somewhat angry tone. "What did you do wrong?" The voice was hissing now at him. Vincent wanted to speak. He had to speak, but he couldn't speak. The figure then brought itself closer to him. Vincent wanted to move, but he couldn't move. "What did you do wrong?" it continued to ask as it traced its hand over Vincent's face. It then suddenly brought its hand to his neck, gripping it tightly, suffocating the him. The figure wasn't that figure anymore; it was a pure shadow, and it continued to hiss in a bloodcurdling manner…

"WHAAATTTT DIIIIDDDD YOUUUUUU DOOOOO WROOONNNNGGGG?!"

_Death to me shall not be delivered._

Vincent awoke, sweating and wide-eyed. With effort, he pushed off the lid of his coffin and sat up. He looked at his hand and claw, breathing heavily. He hadn't had a nightmare like that for a while, and it shook him to his very soul. Feeling insomnia coming to him, he stood, stepped out of the coffin, and made his way outside, where the night air was cool and soothing to him. He needed something to take his mind off of this; he had to stay away from this place for now. It brought him painful memories, and he couldn't focus on anything when he was like this. After pondering deeply about the subject, he decided to accompany Cloud on the morning of the third day. He wondered, though…

Could he last that long?

--

"He's frightened."

Sephiroth commented, his gaze upon the sphere as a smirk graced his lips. Pictured on the sphere was Vincent. He could see the sweat that was soaking through the headband he wore, and he saw the tired, occupied look in his eyes. Sephiroth put his hand on the sphere, and it closed up on a view of Vincent's face.

"Vincent…"

The silver-haired man cooed, stroking the sphere as if he were touching his face.

"Why are you so frightened?"

His face moved closer to the sphere.

"I only paid you a visit while you were sleeping."


	4. Confusion

**Note:** Yesss. I'm back, and I plan to actually finish this fanfic this year (you can thank my New Year's Resolution). This chapter aggravates me. I keep rewriting it because my computer eats it, the USB I keep it on fails, or it didn't have that feeling I wanted. Also, if I get a nightmare after writing this, I'm going to deem this fanfic cursed (it happened with the last chapter I posted). I would like to thank FanFicter123 for recently re-sparking my interest in FF7…yeah, it kinda died when I entered school. Now it's alive. I'm hoping it stays alive. A reminder…this is only after the events of FF7. No compilation; purely FF7, even though I mentioned Edge in the first chapter. That's the only thing I'm going to mention that's out of the compilation. I only planned this fanfic to be for just FF7. Don't yell at me if Angeal/Genesis/SHM/Weiss/Shalua/Shelke/etc. isn't in here or mentioned.

**WARNING:** This chapter is not for the weak-hearted and easily-disgusted.

**Chapter 4: Confusion**

Vincent didn't know how to spend the remainder of the three days. Usually he wouldn't mind just staying by himself in the basement of the Nibelheim Mansion, but his nightmares had become much more extreme. Sephiroth kept popping up in his dreams. Lord _knows_ what that could mean. A bad omen? Torment? A premonition? Why was Sephiroth in his dreams? What does he stand for? Then again, there was also the possibility of Sephiroth contacting him through the Lifestream. It sounded far-fetched, but it wasn't impossible. Why would he want to contact Vincent, though, and why in such a vulgar manner? Why not just appear before him in the real world? If anything, he should be contacting Cloud, right? Not that Vincent wished any harm upon his friend…it just seemed logical that Sephiroth would contact Cloud over Vincent.

"…"

The brooding man closed his eyes, taking in the musty smell of the coffin room. It didn't make him feel better, but it distracted him for a few seconds. It refreshed his mind, in a way. Ever since that dream with Lucrecia, he forced himself to stay awake. The dream left him mentally unstable and exhausted. A good night's rest would probably help him, but he didn't want to experience that dream or Sephiroth again.

Laying his thoughts aside, Vincent crouched beside his coffin and pushed the lid off of it. He came here for a reason, and it wasn't to stare at the ground or to go back to sleep.

"Bullets…bullets…" he muttered to himself, "bullets, bullets…"

He stuffed clips and shells into his pockets until they were bulging. He moved his hand to another part of the coffin.

"Where did I put my gil…?"

Vincent was going to do something rare. He was going to spend the next few days in an inn. Hopefully the owner wouldn't kick him out for looking "scary". He was going to lock himself in his room until Cloud came.

How much was it to stay for a night at the inn? He couldn't remember, and he didn't want to make a second trip to the basement. He squeezed as much gil as he could into a small sack and tied it to his belt, making his way to the door afterwards. His hand twisted the rusted handle and he exited out and began to walk down the dark hallway up to the stairs.

Why did they have to go on the third day? Didn't Cloud have a phone? Right now, Vincent was wishing he had asked Cloud for his phone number. He had probably given it to him earlier, but he hadn't been paying attention. Hopefully at the inn, there won't be any nightma-

_CRACK…SNAP…_

Vincent stopped. He turned around, looking for the source of the sound and found nothing. Actually, now that he thought about it, there could've been something down that pitch-black hallway.

_"It must be one of the monsters living down here."_

He focused his attention back on the stairs. The sounds started to get louder, but he calmly walked forward. However, he soon began to notice that no matter how much he walked, he wasn't getting any closer to the stairs, and the footsteps were getting louder. His walk turned into a power walk, then immediately into a sprint. The sounds rang loudly in his ear; so loud that he swore he was going deaf…

Then all was silent.

Vincent knew it was a foolish thing to do, but he stopped to catch his breath. He looked behind and in front of him. The stairs still hadn't gotten any closer. He observed his surroundings and found a crack on the ground. Vincent grunted, and something unnatural began to happen. Panic overtook him. Just as he was about to take another step forward, hands broke through the cracked earth. Their long, decaying fingers wrapped around Vincent's ankles. Quick thinking made him bring out his gun to shoot the hands. His finger squeezed the trigger, but a long arm that protruded from the now-apparent crack on the ceiling knocked it out of his hands, letting it skid across the floor and underneath a door. He grunted and stomped and kicked at the wrists of the hands that had grabbed his ankles, making sure that the pointed end of his boot hit each and every time. Nothing he did seemed to be working, though, and more decayed hands emerged from the cracks. They grasped at his body until the weight made him fall onto his back. "AGH!" he yelled out as the hands started to rip apart his clothes. He was hoping he didn't have to resort to this next move, but there was no other choice.

He shut his eyes, trying to ignore the air that was coming in contact with his exposed skin. _"Transform…"_ he thought to himself.

The hands snaked up his legs. His pants were shredded to bits.

"_Transform…"_

They ran along his now-bare chest. He shivered in utter disgust.

"_TRANSFORM…"_

Vincent opened his eyes and growled, struggling even more. Why couldn't he transform? He concentrated normally and even more after the first try. Was this a nightmare? He had thought about that possibility and changed his focus when he was trying. It didn't work, though. Vincent was yanked from his thoughts when he felt a hand brush against his cheek. As it brushed, he felt his stomach grow uneasy. The room was filled with the smell of rotting flesh. Normally he was immune to the scent, but this was stronger than ever as the hands multiplied.

Disgusting…_DISGUSTING_.

What was causing all of this? Why couldn't he wake up?

…Was Sephiroth behind this?

Vincent's head whirled around, looking for the silver-haired man. After seeing no sign of him, he relaxed.

Wasn't this obvious? It was a _normal _nightmare. It must be a nightmare. It's the lack of sleep. Anytime now, he'd wake up. This was all a nightmare.

A _nightmare_.

…

But then why did it feel so rea-

"GHUAAA!!!" Vincent spat out a dismembered finger that somehow found its way into his mouth. He froze when he realized that there was something _crawling in his mouth_. He spat out whatever was in his mouth and his whole being filled with dread at the sight of the tiny, white, wriggling maggots.

It didn't show in his face, but he felt sick to his stomach. _Very_ sick to his stomach. He wanted to barf, but something told him that a hand would force itself into his mouth if he let his guard down. He clamped his mouth shut and gritted his teeth. Was there no way out of this? Barely any clothing was on him right now, his gun was too far away, he couldn't transform, and he couldn't move a muscle. Vincent was silent. The hands wriggled against his groin, as if trying to turn him on. It didn't turn him on at all. He loathed all of this, but his body had other ideas. He could feel an erection very slowly coming on. He struggled once more, then fell back, helpless and useless.

_"I guess…this is the part of the nightmare…where I just take it…and I die."_

He was expecting rape. He had nightmares where he had been raped. This was…normal. Rape in dreams was normal. Vincent groaned. Why did he panic? Why did he let his emotions get the better of him? This was just a dream…a nightmare…and it would end after he "died". It didn't matter how realistic it felt; this was a dream. He convinced himself that it was a dream. _"It's a dream…it's a dream…it's a dream…"_

He ignored the soft footsteps against the ground. It was probably a monster. This wasn't the first nightmare Vincent had of a monster raping him. He was curious, but he kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see what the monster was going to do. He only braced himself for the worst as the footsteps grew louder and suddenly came to a stop in front of him.

Crimson eyes shot open as he felt something cold and metallic press against his neck. His eyes met with a familiar blade. He knew who it belonged to. He didn't need to look up, but he did anyway, just to confirm its owner. Sure enough, it was who he expected it to be.

"Sephiroth…" Vincent muttered in a barely audible voice.

The man's cold stare penetrated Vincent's mind, as if reading his inner thoughts and feelings. Vincent stared back, all emotion void from his face. Was Sephiroth going to kill him? The two stared at each other for a long while before Sephiroth raised his blade in a way that suggested that he was about to slash him. Vincent shut his eyes once more, waiting for the blade to come down and end this nightmare. A second passed. The hands that were grasping him loosened. He didn't expect the hands to loosen their grip on him. _"It's part of the dream…he's either going to kill me…or 'have his way with me' before he kills me…"_ That was how it usually went in these scenarios, right? He kept his eyes shut, but opened them when he heard a sigh. Sephiroth was looking down at him with his arms crossed and a hard-to-read expression on his face. Masamune was in its sheathe. Vincent glanced around hesitantly.

To his surprise, all the hands weren't moving anymore and were sliced into bits of flesh and bone. He carefully sat up, brushing the bits off of his body. There was a loud crash from behind him and he pushed his back against a nearby wall, eyes wide open and to look at the source of the sound. It came from a large, unidentifiable monster. It seemed to have been connected to the hands. He stared at the creature for a long time before Sephiroth stepped in front of him, obstructing his view. Vincent didn't look up at Sephiroth. He had questions; lots and lots of questions. First, though, he had to clear his head of what just happened and compose himself. He hated to say it, but he was a bit shaken by what just happened. He didn't want to sound weak when he asked Sephiroth his question. Vincent could feel the other's stare eating at him. He felt Sephiroth's eyes studying his body. As much as Vincent wanted to tell him to stop staring at him in such a manner, there was nothing he could – or wanted – to say right now. Other than the questions, what else was there to say?

There was the sound of feet moving slightly against the dirt. Sephiroth knelt beside Vincent and moved his lips near the other's ear; an action that was very unnecessary in Vincent's book. He could hear him just fine, but what he heard shocked him.

"…Are you okay, Vincent…?"

"…"

All the emotional repairs and composures Vincent had worked on in the past few minutes dissipated as soon as he heard that line. Did he hear that just right? Did Sephiroth just ask him if he was _okay?_

Vincent turned to get a better look at Sephiroth, and he was gone. "…" He was _gone_. Vincent looked down at the ground. Other than the usual cracks in the ground that had developed over time, the ones that had formed earlier weren't there anymore. He touched his clothes. They were there and weren't ripped or torn. His gun was in the holster at his belt. Evidence of the events that took place before was gone. _Gone._ His eyes became empty as he let it all register into his mind.

"_What was that?"_

His mind and heart pounded. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push this nightmare – at least he thought it was a nightmare – to the back of his head, as he did in the past.

"_What was that?"_

Why…?

"…_WHAT WAS THAT?!"_


	5. Inn

**Note:** I'm thinking of redoing the first two chapters. What do you guys think? And ya, I know that Nibelheim Inn is dinky, but pretend it has more rooms, mmkay? Also, I THINK this fanfic is cursed. D| Inono. I didn't have a nightmare, but I had a dream where I kept "waking up", so I didn't know what was real and what was a dream. Same kind of concept as Vincent's without the scary stuff, right? What's real and what's a dream? My nightmare after updating chapter 3 was my at-the-time-girlfriend breaking up with me. Coincidence? Also, look for the clue here as to why Sephiroth is doing…whatever he's doing.

**Chapter 5: Inn**

"I'd like a room, please."

"Yes, yes…and your name, sir…?"

"Vincent. Vincent Valentine."

The clerk lowered his book and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Vincent's attire. "Yeh know, it's a bit too earleh for Hallo'een," he said to Vincent. There was a pause before Vincent spoke. "I'd like a room, please," he reiterated to the clerk. The clerk rolled his eyes and got out a ringed binder. He opened it and started writing down something. "Vincent…Valentine…right? How many nights?" The clerk looked up at Vincent. The brooding man was calculating the days and nights in his head. "…two." The clerk went back to his binder, writing something in it before closing it. He held out his hand.

"200 gil."

Vincent reached in the sack at his belt. Luckily for him, he had more than enough and pulled out the exact amount. He dropped the gil into the clerk's hands and the clerk tossed him a key before going back to his chair. "Upstairs, down da hall. Second t' last room. Don' cause no trouble, ya hear?" Vincent caught the key, muttering a thank you to the clerk before going up the stairs. On the way upstairs, he heard the sound of children laughing.

"Tag, you're it! Better come catch me!"

Halfway up the stairs, a little girl whizzed past Vincent. He heard the clerk shout something and the girl laughed. When Vincent reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner, a boy bumped into him.

"Oof! Sorry, sir!" The boy bowed and went off. "Sister, wait up!" For a moment, Vincent became puzzled as to why the boy didn't scream or get scared of his appearance. Then he remembered that the boy was probably too focused on his sister that he didn't notice him. "Sigh…" Vincent continued to walk, ignoring the strange looks the other people in the hallway threw at him. He reached the second to last door at the end of the hallway and opened it, his nostrils filling with a fresh, clean, almost flowery scent as he stepped in. He closed and locked the door behind him. Hopefully now that there were other people nearby, he can distinguish between reality and nightmares. It didn't take too long for Vincent to decide what to do first; and it wasn't to sleep.

The "nightmare" he had left him feeling very filthy, particularly in his mouth and on his genitals. He could still feel the rotten, wrinkly, bony texture of the hands groping his groin and the squirming ma-

He didn't want to think about it.

He just didn't.

Vincent discarded his clothes, boots, and headband at the foot of the bed. He entered the bathroom and started running a hot shower. Thinking twice, he took the gun with him into the bathroom. He put the lid over the toilet and placed his gun there, away from the water, yet near enough for him to swipe and use should he fall into a nightmare again. He could also use his claw, but he preferred instant death. Checking to make sure everything was in the right place, Vincent stepped into the shower, wincing as the hot water scorched his pale skin. He wanted this, though; he wanted the memories of those events to be gone. Taking a deep breath, Vincent tried to forget it all. He tried to focus on something other than those memories – the water, the white tiles of the bathroom, the drain; anything. He focused on them so hard that his senses were momentarily heightened. The sounds of simple splashes became crashes, and the squeaking of his feet against the floor was like the trills of a violin that wasn't tuned. These sounds were harsh, but it was better than sitting alone and recounting the memories one by one. Amidst the sounds, Vincent could hear a mother next door scolding her children about running around in the inn. He thought nothing of it; only adding that noise to his cacophonous sonata. He would forget about it all here...he would alleviate his pain in this burning water.

After standing for an hour in the shower and filling the bathroom with steam, Vincent started to notice that the hot water was slowly growing colder. He sighed and reached out for the shampoo located on the top shelf…

…and immediately whipped around with the gun in his hand, pointing at the other figure present in the shower with him.

"You _just_ sensed me?" The figure's body was covered with the steam, but Vincent knew who it was.

"What do you want?" Vincent asked, his gun still pointed at the figure. In the steam, he could see the figure's head move down, as if scrutinizing his body. Even though he was naked, Vincent stayed strong under the other's gaze. "Answer me."

"…I didn't know you bathed with your claw on. I guess that's one mystery down out of millions more."

Vincent ignored the comment. "Are you part of my nightmare? My reality?" He could see the other getting closer to him. There was a click as Vincent loaded his gun. "I don't think you want to shoot me," Sephiroth stated, coming into view. Vincent could see that he was also naked, but he didn't question why. First he needed to find out whether or not that this was a dream.

"Why not?"

Sephiroth moved, waving a hand on the wall behind him. An image of a mother and the two children Vincent saw earlier appeared. Vincent's first reaction was to cover his body with the shower curtains, but then he realized that Sephiroth was showing him something that was going on in the other room right now. The mother was playing a board game with the children. She laughed momentarily as the girl blew a raspberry at the boy and the boy glared back, but laughed after. Vincent's eyes lingered on the family a second longer before addressing Sephiroth. "…This is a nightmare," he simple stated in reply, shuffling his feet to try to get Sephiroth to stand in another position. The silver-haired man failed to move. "Do you want to take that chance?" Sephiroth asked, moving his arm back to his side to let the image disappear. Vincent was silent as he began to move out of the bath tub; an attempt to shoot Sephiroth at a different angle. Sephiroth moved his arm again to reveal the boy chasing the girl and the mother scolding them somewhere from the other room. Vincent stopped.

"…Sephiroth, what do you want?"

"Finish your bath."

"_What do you want?!_"

"Are you going to finish your bath, or do I have to force you to?"

"…"

Vincent grunted. "...going to leave anytime soon?" he asked. He got no physical answer from the other man. _"Of course,"_ he thought to himself, rolling his eyes as he went back into the bath tub. The shower was still running, and it was cold now. Vincent concentrated on blocking out Sephiroth as he continued to wash himself. He was trying to take control of this dream – if it was a dream – as he did in the past, before he was plagued with nightmares. It had to be a dream, right? Right now, Sephiroth wasn't doing anything that made this dream seem like a nightma-

_Rub, rub._

"Interesting…"

"…_Sephiroth_…"

_GROPE._

"!!! Son of a-!!!"

"…This isn't as big as mine, but it'll do-"

_WHACK._

If he couldn't shoot him, he'd beat the living daylights out of him with the barrel of his gun or rip him to shreds with his claw. Sephiroth rubbed his head and Vincent growled, his face a light shade of red from being touched _there_. The shower curtain was around his waist and his gun was above his head.

"OUT."

"But-"

"_OUT."_

With a shove and the slam of a door, Vincent managed to kick Sephiroth out; out of the bathroom, anyways. Vincent continued his cold bath in silence. This was a dream. The _great Sephiroth_ didn't have Masamune on hand, and he wasn't fighting back physically. Also, Sephiroth should be stronger strength-wise than him. This _had_ to be a dream; it couldn't be anything else.

The running water stopped with the squeak of a knob turning. Shivering, Vincent stepped out of the shower and dried himself with a towel. He wrapped the towel around the lower half of his body after drying his hair and opened the door, his gun gripped firmly in hand. He glanced around the room and saw that Sephiroth was nowhere to be found. His eyes were drawn to his clothes. He had just piled them onto the ground near the bed, but now they were on top of the bed and folded neatly. "He must be watching somewhere," Vincent thought to himself as he laid his gun on the dresser and let his towel fall to the ground. Sephiroth had seen him naked anyway, and he wasn't going to walk around with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He slipped on his undergarments first, then his pants, top, and headband. He didn't put on his cape. Instead, he laid it on a nearby chair, with his boots and socks nearby. He sighed and plopped onto the bed, pondering about what just happened. He shifted positions several times on the bed to get comfortable. When he moved onto his side, he felt weight on the other side of the bed, and pointed his gun at Sephiroth. A quick peek backwards revealed that Sephiroth was laying down next to him, and he had his gun at his jaw. _Perfect. _Sephiroth didn't seem to move or protest to this action, and Vincent wasn't surprised. "…You don't belong here. Even if you are my nightmare; my dream…you don't belong here." Vincent pressed the gun into Sephiroth's jaw. "Now…tell me why you're here." The two men exchanged a lasting silence before Sephiroth spoke.

"If you want to know…I've…always…wondered about you, Vincent. Ever since I first laid my eyes upon yo-"

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"If you've 'always wondered about me', you would've approached me much, much earlier. That would've been the most logical thing to do if you 'wondered about me', don't you think?"

"…"

"Out with it."

"…You know a bullet won't kill me."

Vincent turned his head to get a full view of Sephiroth. The look on the man's face was of a serious nature now; something that Vincent should've been expecting, but hadn't. "Tell me." Vincent demanded. "Tell me or I'll shoot." He tried not to sound desperate. He really wanted to know why Sephiroth was here. Why was Sephiroth in his dreams? Why _him_? _Why him?_ Vincent was so confused.

"You can't shoot me." Sephiroth stated, putting a hand on the gun. "Watch me," Vincent replied, squeezing the trigger. Suddenly, his whole body froze. Sephiroth looked expectantly at him. Vincent couldn't move his finger. His hands and arms were frozen in place, no matter what he did to try to shoot him.

Why?

Why couldn't he shoot him?

He had the will, but his body just wasn't moving.

"_Stupid…STUPID DREAM…STUPID NIGHTMARE…"_

Vincent was now convinced more than ever that this was a dream; no, a nightmare. If he couldn't do anything, then it was a nightmare. Vincent's bangs covered his eyes as he lowered his gun and placed it on the dresser. He tried to bring his claw up to attack him, but he couldn't move that as well. No matter what he did, he couldn't bring harm to the other, and he found himself in a mix of frustration and confusion. Even though he told himself over and over that it was a nightmare, why was this happening? All of this was tiring him out. He found himself growing exhausted, which was an unusual, but common element in all the nightmares he had experienced.

Sephiroth eyed Vincent. Vincent could tell that he was studying him again, and he could also tell that Sephiroth knew that he was tired. The silver-haired man sat up and placed a hand on Vincent's head, pushing him softly onto the bed. Vincent protested, his body movements sluggish.

"Sleep…I'll make them go away."

Make what go away? Vincent found himself losing all resistance and drifting off to sleep, though he didn't know why. He didn't trust Sephiroth at all, yet here he was, about to go to sleep…

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was an onslaught of monsters and Sephiroth facing them single-handedly with Masamune in hand.


End file.
